


Floating Lanterns

by dcisamtyler



Category: The Great (TV 2020), The Great - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Tangled (2010), Kissing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25459291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcisamtyler/pseuds/dcisamtyler
Summary: Inspired by the floating lantern scene in "Tangled."The reader convinces Count Orlo to go to Sweden with her to see the floating lanterns (gleam).
Relationships: Count Orlo/Reader, Orlo (The Great TV 2020)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Floating Lanterns

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for Count Orlo and "The Great" itself, so please excuse any inaccuracies with history or the character himself. Besides that, I’m beyond happy to write for him. I really felt that the floating lantern scene in Tangled would fit him really well. Hope you enjoy it!

Count Orlo awkwardly cleared his throat as he stared down at the papers in front of him, fishing through the pile one page after another. It didn’t seem to matter how long he kept his gaze trained on the pages, he could no longer comprehend them. The words, that once flowed like a gentle river, blurred right before him, cursive letters looping into each other, making him blink and squint his eyes. 

It shocked and worried him. It didn’t matter the text, he always loved to read. While these notes from a recent meeting with Peter weren’t particularly interesting, his usual self could read through them with an impressive speed. Now, his mind was at a standstill, flickering like a candle nearly ready to die out.

The Count knew it was not a serious problem. At least, not of the medical sort. The “problem” was a mischievous and carefree Lady of the court, Lady Y/N. Her scent, light and floral, still lingered in his apartments, almost intoxicating him. Orlo was not interested in alcohol like the other bureaucrats, but this feeling was enough for him.

A beautiful woman, the vodka for the mind and heart. Fuck, Orlo thought, as he carefully placed his pen down. He wouldn’t be able to read for a while after her visit, not if his mind was still spinning, twirling around visions of her in her red gown.

Normally, when Y/N was near, Orlo could hold himself together. He had to, in order to prevent embarrassment among the other palace residents. The Count was known for being a bumbling idiot, a hopeless virgin. Why would a beautiful and intelligent Lady of the court want to involve herself with him?

Yet, by some miracle, she was his closest friend in the court, his confidante. She held close friendships with Catherine, Leo, and Marial. He often thought about how all three would injure themselves with laughter if they found out Orlo thought of Y/N in a romantic sense, especially Marial, who acted as an older sister to her.

Count Orlo couldn’t get enough of Y/N. He believed it was even pure luck that she would want to be in close proximity with him. He tried to calm his heart every time she visited his apartments, but it proved to be futile as she always curled up in one of his chairs with her nose in a book from his personal collection. His chest seemed to lurch every time she would ask for his opinion after a certain passage. While he tried to seem gentle and thoughtful, his words would pour out of him, his tone dripping with passion.

When she left, he always felt a rush to the head, his veins pulsing with adrenaline after he took in her warm smile and promise to reunite soon.

That evening, just after sunset, Y/N waltzed into Orlo’s apartments with a flourish. He was sitting at his desk with a pile of notes and when he saw her, he panicked. He wasn’t expecting her, but he would never push her away. In fact, he told his guards to always let her in without question. His apartments were to be as much of a safe space to her as they were to him.

Until she wandered in that day, claiming she had a plan. A bit of fun. Mischief twinkled in her eyes under candlelight. While Orlo wanted to take in her beauty, how wonderful she looked with her wild eyes and new sense of purpose, he hesitated. He didn’t particularly like plans – they were often unsafe and rife with negative possibilities. Plans got people shot, beheaded, or stripped of their titles. He knew the risks.

But Y/N took his hands into her soft palms, her eyes begging him to listen. He knew he definitely wasn’t going to like this plan.

And he didn’t.

Y/N believed she could sneak out of the palace to go to Sweden – a particular part that wasn’t war-torn or lined with bodies, but beautiful, lined with ships by the waterfront. A place where they also appreciated art, beauty, and literature. They had a tradition around this time to send up floating lanterns into the sky. Y/N wanted to see it and with him.

The Count couldn’t believe it. She was obviously speaking nonsense. She had, after all, come straight from a round of drinks with Leo and the Empress. What was in that man’s drinks to corrupt her mind like that? 

Sneaking out and concocting excuses to go to Sweden would surely have Peter’s head turning if he found out. Peter would strip them both of their titles and mock them relentlessly. That is if he didn’t have them killed first.

The whole plan made Count Orlo’s stomach fill with a nasty swarm of butterflies. They lingered after she left his apartments, begging him to think on it. All of it left his mind spinning – the thought of them traveling together and the mere fact that she wanted him to go with her.

He wanted to. Desperately. But his fear threatened to betray him. He knew what people would think if they left the palace together, the vicious rumors they could conjure up within seconds. They weren’t courting in public, or even courting at all. The people of the court barely knew they were as close as they were. 

Some part of Orlo wanted to keep it that way – keep her as his little secret, keep her safe from the rumors, and the japes. The ladies of the court would rip her to shreds if they knew she was such close friends with him.

But his mind lingered on those eyes. How Y/N stared at him with eyes as wide as dinner plates, the pure sentiment of the look in them. He knew the look well. It was the desire to see something that wasn’t within those palace walls. How could he keep her from that? 

He swallowed hard, his breath shaky. He would go to the Empress at first chance and ask for her assistance.

***

After the Count consulted with Catherine – a private meeting in which Catherine playfully teased him, claiming she was well aware of his feelings – the plan was ready. 

It was easier than expected, as was the life of an Empress, and Catherine simply made excuses for the two. They would be a male and female representation of the palace, visiting the war front on her behalf. Peter seemed fine with the idea, rather distracted and indifferent, only offering an airy comment about Orlo sticking his cock in a Swede or Y/N.

Orlo had to close his eyes at the comment and try to ignore it. They were going to see the floating lights, just as Y/N desired. He would take endless japes just to see her happy.

As they sat, waiting for nightfall, Orlo thought about Y/N’s reaction to his agreement. 

“O-okay,” he had breathed out, unable to look at her. “We will be—”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence, the breath hitching in his throat as Y/N rushed to give him a kiss on the cheek in thanks. After all, he made it happen. But Y/N would never know the confession he had to give to convince Catherine of it, how he desired to make Y/N gleam with happiness brighter than any floating lantern could.

Now, she sat next to him on a rock wall lining the bank of the river, her hand lingering near his. He couldn’t bear to look at her without fear of his heart stopping. But he could see her out of the corner of his eye, her face flushed under candlelight. Her gaze lingered over him as they sat in a content silence, waiting for the first lantern to be released. It was only a matter of time.

“Orlo,” Y/N whispered.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Thank you, for this. I owe you shelves of new literature. Fuck, a whole library of literature, truly.”

Orlo’s heart softened. “You do not owe me at all. I only wish to see you h-happy.”

When Y/N’s body turned towards him, Orlo briefly closed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t said that. That might have been too strong of a sentiment for the moment. 

The Count couldn’t look at her, even though she was staring at him. He could feel her skirting towards him, the fabric of her dress reaching his thigh. He swallowed hard, wondering if he should try to escape, or sit very, very still. He could very well feign an illness, right then, especially as her hand hovered over his. A familiar dizzy feeling fell over him, as the breeze picked up the rosewater on her skin.

A nervous but sweet laugh bubbled out of Y/N as the first lantern lifted high into the sky. “Strangely enough, I only wish the same for you.”

Orlo wanted to respond, but the breath hitched in his throat before he could. He watched all the lanterns follow the first, a slow but steady rise of golden light floating into the sky. It captured Y/N’s gaze at once and her face fell into the widest smile Orlo had ever seen. 

The hand that lingered over his immediately grabbed it as she glanced over at him as if to say “Look at all this beauty” but he could barely notice it. He was staring at her. 

The true beauty was Y/N, shining next to him like a shimmering piece of gold as her eyes followed the lanterns up into the clouds. 

As the last lantern rose gracefully into the sky, Y/N squeezed his hand and pointed up at it.

Orlo, hopeless virgin Orlo, never-been-with-a-woman Orlo, could have kissed her right then and there. Softened and full of fear all at once, he watched her carefully. He saw the quick breath she took, as she met his gaze with a gentle grin. 

Slowly, and carefully, she grabbed his coat and closed the distance between them.

Orlo felt the relief at once – like the feeling of rain on a hot day. He closed his eyes and melted into it, letting his lips move softly against hers. He didn’t even care if he seemed inexperienced. He simply wanted to be close to her, and he made every effort, his hand pulling at her waist, the other moving to cradle her face.

Kissing her was like being surrounded by his favorite books in a warm library, uninterrupted, letting the wax drip, and the candlelight die out. 

As she broke the kiss, he kept his eyes closed and rested his forehead against hers, attempting to catch his breath.

He had seen the light. He only wanted more of it.

And without catering to another thought, he pressed his lips to hers once more.


End file.
